Finding Mr. Write (Business of Love #5) - Ali Parker Page 0,5

arrive. Mind if I sit with you for a few?”

“Please.”

Katie tucked her pale yellow dress under her thighs as she slid onto her seat. The bartender didn’t ask her if she wanted a drink, but he fixed her one anyway, and seconds later, she had a tall glass with sparkling clear liquid in it garnished with a wedge of pineapple. She pursed her lips to the straw, sucked, and turned to face me on her stool with the heels of her sandals resting on the bar between the stool legs. “How has your writing been going the last couple of days? I haven’t seen you out and about. I assume that’s a good thing?”

I shrugged. “It’s going. Could be better. Could be worse.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.”

Katie smiled, set her drink down, and leaned forward conspiratorially. “What’s it about?”

I chuckled. She always wanted to know what the upcoming stories were about that I was working on. “If I tell you…”

“I won’t tell a soul. Not even Peter. Pinky promise.”

“Fine,” I agreed. “It’s about a young woman, close to your age, who gives up the only man she ever loved for her dream job. She lives the life she always dreamed and wanted. She gets the promotions. The raises. The house. The family. The expensive SUV. All of it. But she’s never happy because of what she gave up to get it all.”

Katie’s brows drew together. “That doesn’t sound like a very good love story.”

I laughed and shook my head.

“Was that rude of me?” she asked, blushing.

“Not at all. I’m not going to give anything away because I always appreciate your feedback after you finish reading one of my books, but let’s just say I play a little bit with timelines in this one.”

“Consider me intrigued.”

“Tell me about this Peter of yours. Are you two still blissfully happy?”

Katie couldn’t hide her smile. She twisted in her stool and took a couple sips of her drink before answering. “He renovated his entire house for me to move in with him. We’ve been working on expansions together and rebuilding the porch. It’s all so good that sometimes I catch myself wondering if I deserve it. You know?”

“You deserve it.”

“Thanks. For the record, so do you.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Katie slid off her stool and took her drink with her. “It’s possible to find the kind of love you write about out in the real world, Wes. You just have to be out in the real world to find it. Not in a hotel room.” She winked, slung her bag over her shoulder, and asked the bartender to make me another drink—on her. “Have a good night, Wes.”

I watched her go. “Yeah, you too.”

Chapter 3

Briar

My luggage was in pretty rough shape. The integrity of the bag had long since been compromised, but I wasn’t in a position to go out and pay a bunch of money for a new set, so I’d resigned myself to being the girl boarding the plane in her sweats, hoodie, and a duffel bag as her carry-on. With any luck, the check-in counter wouldn’t criticize me for toting apocalyptic suitcases through the airport and putting more faith in the zippers than they deserved.

The three suitcases sat at the front door of the apartment while I sat in the egg chair one last time before my entire life changed.

Madison and Riley had been at work all afternoon but had promised they would leave on time in order to drive me to the airport. Riley was the only one with a car in the house. At first, I’d suggested I just take a cab. The airport wasn’t easy to get to, and I felt bad making them go out of their way, but my besties insisted on doing this right and driving me themselves.

I appreciated it.

Leaving Waynesville without a proper goodbye at the airport wouldn’t have felt right. I needed closure from this place. I needed a hug and maybe some tears and well wishes, after which I could get on the plane and look out the window as it crept into the sky and feel like I left on good terms.

If my parents were in town, I’d have asked them to drive me. But they were in the south of France sipping wine they probably crushed in barrels with their bare feet.

“Lucky retirees,” I muttered.

Riley and Madison were twenty-five minutes later than they said they’d be. I’d been watching the minutes tick by while the pit of nerves